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Page 5


  “Where are we going?” I ask for the umpteenth time.

  “Just a few more steps.” He promises. “Don’t worry, we’re somewhere safe and public with lots of security.”

  He didn’t have to tell me any of the last part but I know he did for my reassurance where we were going and what was happening. He wanted me to know that despite this second half of the date being his idea, I was still in charge of everything.

  It was the most comforting lie he would ever have me believe.

  We walked a short distance and suddenly stopped. Cameron briefly pulled away to talk to someone and came back a short time later. “I’ll help you down now.”

  “Help me down?” What kind of date is this? “I don’t put out on the first date.”

  “It’s not that type of date, Tay.” He assured me. “Unless you want to…?”

  “I’m good!” My mouth replied in haste and he chuckles. There goes the thump in my panties again. I slowly kneel down and feel my knees touch fabric. My second knee hits the fabric and I’m kneeling. This is anything but sexy.

  “You can lay down now.” He suggested and I follow his lead. “And you can take the blindfold off now.”

  I take off the blindfold and look around. I immediately recognize it as the botanical gardens. We’re laying side by side on a blanket, looking up at the stars. It was exactly what I wanted to do and he made sure it happened.

  I would quickly learn that would be Cameron’s M.O. for the duration of our relationship – whatever I wanted, I received.

  Even if it meant he killed someone for it.

  “If you look to your left, you can see the Big Dipper.” He pointed up at the sky. “Always follow the three stars in a row.”

  I didn’t care about the Big Dipper, though I played along. We were laying next to each other, our hands touching but not interlocked, and he calmly talked about the stars with an app on his phone.

  When I began to get cold, Cameron covered me with a blanket and laid on top of it to give us a buffer. He was incredibly respectful despite how intimate we were.

  Cameron was real smooth and I don’t think this was something he did with a lot of women. I also don’t want to think I would be different and the one he would do it for.

  By the time we were done looking up at the stars and talking about everything and anything, it was already late at night. The time on his iPhone told me it was past midnight and we’d been at the gardens for at least three hours.

  Three magical hours.

  “Are you ready to go, Tay?”

  I wasn’t, but I didn’t know what else we could do that was chaste. “Um, yeah. I’m ready.” Cameron stood up and helped me stand. As I fixed myself to look presentable, I noticed three men in strategically placed corners. They were wearing suits and looked an awfully lot like Secret Service men.

  “Are they with you?” I nodded to the men.

  Cameron had a small smile. “They’re for our protection.” He didn’t offer any other details and I knew better than to ask. For all I knew, it was probably connected to his Senator father.

  He drove me back to the apartment and it’s party night. It seems like there are three parties going on at once and no shortage of weed, liquor, and vaping for everyone. Cameron walks me up to my apartment and we enter it. Meadow and Hayley aren’t home, which means it’s just air and opportunity for me and Cameron.

  He walks up to my door and waits for me to open it. I reluctantly turn around and smile at him. “I guess this is it.” No response from him. “Thank you for a lovely time. I had a lot of fun.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiles at me. “I would love to take you out again if you want to.”

  I would love to! The teenage me jumps out and I push her back down before she can act a fool. I clear my throat. “I would love to.” My voice is calm and collected.

  Cameron closes the distance between us and caresses my face before he pulls me in for another searing kiss. His lips devoured me as his tongue gently searched for mine. My hands became lost in his hair as an unfamiliar thumping began in my panties.

  Blood rushed in my ears as I pulled Cameron closer to me. I didn’t believe in putting out on the first night but at that moment, I can most certainly see why a lot of women do. My panties became slick with desire and I wanted him.

  He pulled away and left me aching and breathless. “I’ll call you tomorrow, beautiful.” He kissed my forehead and left.

  I rushed inside and closed the door behind me. I needed to catch my breath. Who was that man? Did he do that to every woman or just me? Would I ever get used to it?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Five

  Fresh Espresso wasn’t like any coffee shop in town; it had soul.

  When one walked in, there were numerous photos of all of the Black greats: MLK, Malcolm X, the Obamas, Michael Jackson, Prince, and countless others.

  There were memories of how far we’ve come with ‘Whites only’ signs, and those cartoon caricatures of what white people thought we looked like with the bug eyes and fat pink lips.

  Local achievements were always celebrated. School valedictorians and the typical ‘First Black to’ records.

  My daddy always made sure the shop was for everyone. He appreciated all races and all faces in different spaces, as long as people knew not to come at him with the bullshit.

  As I stood in line for my too-much-sugar caffeinated drink, I fondly recall when my Daddy just had his coffee shop out of the garage. We would often have garage sales and Daddy always made coffee for the neighborhood. In turn, when our neighbors started to have their sales, they would ask Daddy if he would make coffee.

  Word of mouth traveled about my Daddy’s coffee and next thing he knew, he had a little coffee stand outside of Sunday church. Then he would have one for the Black History Festival. He’d saved up enough money to buy a small rundown shop before moving onto a bigger one for more space.

  The shop didn’t look like a typical coffee shop. It looked like someone’s kitchen and that was the intention. Cornflower blue walls; red, black, and green tables, and white dinnerware contrasted against the hardwood floors.

  People would come everyone just for his coffee. It was strong, but it had that extra touch. It was a community full of everyone and no one came in with the politicking or this and that. People just wanted some good coffee with a nice slice of icebox pie to go with it. Hell yeah.

  Instead of calling coffee by the usual names, Daddy has them nicknamed after his favorites – Jay-Z is the house blend, because it’s strong and everyone likes it. Kanye is a cappuccino because it has an unexpected kick to your system. Drake is chai tea, because it’s soft.

  “Hey, Ms. Thang!” My daddy’s right-hand, Gabe Butler, greets me. He’s a tall Black man with a goatee and dreads. He looks a lot like the rapper, Future, and gets confused for him on a regular basis. “In here, getting some free stuff for a broke college student discount?”

  “Anyway!” I stick out my tongue and Gabe laughs at me. “Let me get the Michael Jack special – the blended mocha with the whipped cream on top.”

  “Don’t stop until you get enough,” Gabe replies with the pun. I love his puns. Corny and predictable but they always put a smile on my face. “Anything else?”

  “And some of that icebox pie.” I glanced down to see if there’s still a slice. There’s plenty but I want to make sure I get mine.

  “We always save a slice for baby girl now.” Gabe directs. I begin to pull out my card and he rejects it. “You know your money is no good here. But if you have some cash, tip the servers.”

  I pull out the loose dollars I have and put them in the tip jar. “Thanks, Gabe.”

  “Not a problem. Your coffee and pie will be ready in a minute.”

  “And Daddy? Where’s he?” I ask.

  “He’s in the back in a meeting.” Gabe shrugs. “He should be done soon, though.”

  I make my way towards the back of the shop, near the b
athrooms and I overhear my Daddy talking to someone. His voice is calm but his words are anything but.

  “Listen, I know your offer is a good one. And I’m not going to lie and say it’s not one of the best offers I’ve had on this place. But it’s not for sale; neither the business nor the property. I built this shop from the ground up and I plan to give it to my daughter when she gets old enough.”

  “Well,” a female voice answers, “that is very commendable of you. But the money I’m offering will guarantee a bright future for both you and your daughter.” The lady pauses. “You would be silly to not consider it.”

  “The money you’re offering I could make in just a few years.” I hear the skepticism in my father’s voice. “Property here in East Atlanta is going up. By the time I purchase another property and get it ready for business, I would already be in the hole. I live a very comfortable lifestyle now and I’m not trying to give it up.”

  “What if I double it?” The woman presses. “Two. Million. Dollars.”

  My mouth gasps. Now Daddy would really be a plum fool to turn that down.

  “The offer is no,” Daddy remains firm and I almost want to barge in the office to tell him to reconsider. “But thank you for the time.”

  There’s a long pause and I hear shuffling. “Very well. I’ll be back with another offer, Lamont.” The door swings open and the woman exits the office. She turns to me and smiles.

  She’s a petite Black woman with light skin and brown eyes. She’s wearing a tight black business suit with a short skirt and matching high heels. She’s all but 5’2, but the power she wields makes her seem much larger than that. “You must be Taylor, Lamont’s baby girl he fondly speaks of.” She turns and leaves.

  What the hell was that about?

  Daddy built his coffee shop from the ground up. He purchased the land, hired builders, and worked on the shop when it was just dirt and pavement in the area. Everyone told him he was crazy and he agreed, but he knew he was onto something special.

  He took odd jobs like being a cook in a diner, doing yard work, security for the local mall, and even being a bouncer at the nightclubs to save up enough money to build his dream. The foundation, the color scheme, the paintings and photographs on the wall were all of my Daddy’s brilliant creations.

  He traveled to Guatemala and Costa Rica to choose the best coffee beans. He studied with coffee sommeliers, tasting and smelling the finest coffee beans known to man. He went deep into the trenches and would be gone for weeks at a time, leaving me with grandparents and other relatives as he followed his dream.

  Now my Daddy’s coffee shop is rated one of the best in all of Atlanta. He was featured on several cooking shows and made a special guest appearance on Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. When visitors come all over the world, they always made a stop at Daddy’s shop, raving about how they heard it was the best coffee and never leave disappointed.

  I walk into Daddy’s office and he’s quiet with his lips pursed like he just ate a lemon. He’s shaking his head and sighs. It’s the same headshake people have when someone says something so stupid, all you can do is shake your head.

  I knock on the door and my Daddy wipes his face clear. Long gone is the frustration and replaced is happiness and love. “My baby girl.” He gets up and gives me a warm embrace and kiss. “Happy to see you always.”

  “Happy to see my favorite guy.” I sit down as my Daddy takes his seat behind his desk. Gabe brings my coffee and pie, along with another for Daddy. He closes the door behind him as he leaves. “So, what was that about?”

  Daddy shrugs as he digs into his pie. “Same usual. Someone is interested in the property and makes promises to change my life, knowing the offer is shit.” He points to the closed door. “That was one different, though. She wanted the property and the business.”

  My eyebrows rose. “That’s new. Usually they just want your property.”

  “Usually. There was something not quite right about that lady. Something sinister about her offer.” He pauses and sighs. “I have a feeling I’ll see her again.”

  My daddy’s voice is calm but I’m anything but. “What do you mean sinister?”

  “Just a vibe.” My daddy could always read people well. He knew if someone liked him or couldn’t stand him based on how they interacted with him within seconds. I inherited a sixth sense from him because I can pick up the vibe as well. “Is she evil? I don’t know but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was.”

  East Atlanta property has become a hot commodity and the rich white folks are going all out in their offers. Daddy had been offered numerous times and he’s shot down all of them. Some of the figures have even reached the seven figures and I had to second-guess what the hell my Daddy was on to turn down those offers.

  “What about the other offers?” I ask before I take a bite of my favorite pie. “There were some good offers, Daddy.”

  “Baby girl, you need to understand if someone is offering you something in a business transaction be it a purchase or settlement, they’re giving you a lowball offer. They know what you have is worth much more. They hope you’re dumb enough to take the first offer.” He gives me a nod. “If they’re offering me two million, I know what I have is worth ten million.”

  I briefly look up to see the various pictures of us on the walls. Every moment from my wee soccer days to my high school graduation to me getting ready for various school dances were on the walls. No wonder the woman knew me.

  Knew might be too generous of a word. Scoping would be a better definition. There was an innate feeling she was trying to size me up and I’m not quite sure why.

  “Anyway, enough about that mess. How are you doing?” Daddy asks. “What’s going on in the world of Taylor?”

  I’ve never lied to my father about anything but I don’t know how much I want to share about Cameron. At this point, I guess there’s nothing to lose. “I went on a date the other night. His name is Cameron Page. His father is Senator Eric Page.”

  Daddy takes another bite of his pie and nods. He wipes his mouth and now it’s his turn to raise an eyebrow at me. “Is that so?”

  “He’s a nice guy, Daddy.” I try to sell Cameron but even I’m not sure how much I believe that. He never did explain the confrontation at the golf course. “I’ll be seeing him again this weekend.”

  “Oh.” Daddy doesn’t approve but it’s not a race thing. I know how Daddy feels about politicians in general. He feels they’re one and the same no matter what side of the political coin they’re on. “As long as he doesn’t interrupt the school work.”

  “He won’t.” I promise. “We’re only seeing each other during the weekends for now.”

  “As it should be.” Daddy gives a warning.

  I smile at my Daddy as we continue our coffee date. The conversation becomes light and fun as Daddy talks about his disastrous dating adventures. I push back what I heard earlier and the weird vibe I got from the other lady.

  I have a sneaky suspicion it won’t be the last time I would hear from her again.

  Six

  “Girl, I just love dating a baller.” Hayley talks to me as she tries on yet another fit at Bloomingdale’s. “Que told me to take his black card and run up the tab. He didn’t have to tell me twice!”

  I should be in class pretending to listen to my professor talk about economics but Hayley convinced me to go shopping with her. Now I’m in the sitting area of the women’s section as Hayley tries on what appears to be the fifteenth outfit of the day. Now I see why all those men stay home.

  “I’m glad he’s treating you well,” I reply as I flip through Instagram. Since Hayley and Que hit it off, Hayley hasn’t been around that much. I don’t hate because I get it. She’s got new dick and for the time being, I take a backseat.

  I would complain but it’s not like Cameron hasn’t been occupying my time. We call each other every night and we’ve become a fan of FaceTiming each other. We’ve regulated our dates to the weekend so I can concentrate
on school and Fresh Espresso.

  Our conversations range from the serious like systemic racism and Cameron surprised me on how woke he was, to the silly and mundane on which Lil’ Kim face we liked the best. Cameron makes slick jokes about how he can’t get over white people’s obsession with La Croix (“It’s just water!”)

  I’m not in love with Cameron, but I can’t say I’m not at least smitten. He makes a sista feel a certain kind of way, like I’m the only girl in the world and honestly, I got used to that real quick.

  We’re not at the ‘take my card and shut down the store’ level of our relationship (we’re not even in one, honestly) but I wouldn’t mind if it went that route. What woman doesn’t want to be spoiled by Prince Charming?

  “Girl, anytime a man with good dick and a bigger bank account tells me to go have fun, you know I’m all over that!” Hayley admires a yellow number that might be a little too short and too tight but somehow she doesn’t look like she’s squeezed into it. “How are things going with you and Cameron?”

  “Good. We went on a date last weekend and he’s going to take me out again this weekend.” I stare down at Cameron’s IG page and wonder if I should start following him. It’s a public page and he already has about 100,000 followers.

  His most recent photo is a shot taken of him in front of his BMW. He’s wearing a simple outfit of a V-neck shirt and jeans, with a pair of sunglasses dangling from his fingers. He looks incredibly hot and his outfit is hugging his body like it was meant for it.

  Aside from the picture, it’s the caption that really gets my attention:

  Let me touch you with my love.

  I repeat the line against my breath and struggle to think of where I’ve heard it before. It’s not new or something he came up with his own. But I have no idea where it could’ve come from. I silently wonder if it was a shout-out to me.

  “TAY!”

  Hayley’s voice shakes me out of my daydream and I look to see she’d changed into another fit. “Yeah.” I nod.

  Hayley shakes her head. “I didn’t even ask a question, dumb-dumb.” She turns back to the mirror and admires a red dress number. “Now how do I look?”